The Life of the Venerable Mother Mary of the Incarnation

by Anonymous

THE MOTHER OF THE INCARNATION A VICTIM FOR HER SON AND HER NIECE.— CONVERSION OF BOTH.—MOTHER ST. ATHANASIUS ELECTED MOTHER SUPERIOR.

The mental sufferings of the Mother of the Incarnation had abated at the end of three years, but they were very far from having wholly ceased. They were to be traced in part, as we have seen, to that heroic act of self-immolation by which she had offered herself as a victim to Divine justice for the salvation of two erring souls very dear to her heart, and until grace should have fully triumphed over both, her martyrdom was not to terminate. These objects of her holy solicitude were her son, and one of her nieces.

The former, as may be remembered, had applied for admission to the Jesuit novitiate, much about the time of the Venerable Mother's departure for Canada, and not being considered suitable for the Order, had been rejected. The disappointment preyed on him for a while, but hope soon succeeded to despondency. If the cloister was closed, the world, he argued, was open to him. Why not then seek in the latter, the happiness which he had vainly dreamed of finding in the former? Why not choose one among the many paths to distinction which untried life held out so temptingly, and take his chance of success as others had done before him? Lured onwards by ambition, he resolved to settle in Paris, naturally supposing that the Queen's well-known veneration for his saintly Mother, would secure him her favour. The Duchess d'Aiguillon at once offered him her patronage, and the difficulties of the first start being thus happily removed, he seemed free to select his road to fortune.

And was he then really destined for nothing better than the slavery of the world? Could it be true that that worthless world was one day to boast of having thrown its shackles round the heart of the son of Marie Guyart? She had consecrated his soul to God before his eyes had opened to the light; she had taught him his first prayer; she had given him his first impression of piety; she had instilled his first lesson, that it were better far to die a thousand deaths if that were possible, than live to commit one mortal sin. Had the remembrance of her teaching utterly vanished, and the last trace of her maternal influence quite faded away? No, that could not be. The mother, who like her, has rightly understood the words maternal influence, and early taken care to establish her own, will hold the key to her child's heart while ever his heart throbs. Vast intervals may separate that mother and child; oceans and years may lie between them, and still the mother's words will retain their grasp of her boy's soul, starting from its depths in the hour of temptation, to awaken the sweet echo of early lessons, and revive the memory of that last promise at parting, to be true to God, to conscience and the maternal teaching.

And if perchance the child should have forgotten the maxims and rejected the control of the mother, still can her influence reach his heart through the sure channel of her prayers and tears. The Christian mother's prayers fall on the soul of her prodigal child like genial sunshine on the drooping plant; her tears like cool dew on the parched earth—they revive, they warm, they soften. He cannot resist them, for they come laden with the heavenly grace which they have been the blessed means of winning from the all-merciful Heart of Jesus. This it was Claude Martin's happiness to experience. While he thought only of plunging into the vortex of the world, the Mother of the Incarnation prayed, and wept, and suffered without intermission to obtain his entire conversion. "It could not be that a child of those tears should perish." [Footnote: Words of a Bishop to St. Monica, with reference to St. Augustine.] As may be anticipated, his rebellious heart was finally won to God, wholly and for ever.

The circumstances of his conversion are singular. It happened one day that, weary of the noise and bustle of the great city, he retired to his quiet room, to study. Before long he was disturbed by a knocking at the door, but, although he opened it promptly, he could see nobody. He resumed his study only to be a second and a third time similarly interrupted, and with a similar result. The occurrence was so strange, that he could explain it to himself only as the wondrous action of the hand of God. The voice of grace spoke to his heart, even more distinctly than the sound at the door had spoken to his ear. Without one moment's hesitation, he flew to Dom Raymond of St. Bernard, his mother's former director, and told him of the mysterious incident which, in an instant had dispelled his dreams of ambition, subdued his will, and changed him into a new being, and he concluded the strange communication by beseeching the Father in earnest terms, to guide him to the road to which God called. The unexpected news of the next day, was, that Claude Martin had suddenly renounced his very brilliant prospects in the world to join the Order of St. Benedict.

The joy and gratitude of his holy mother at the blessed tidings may be imagined. "It would be difficult, my very dear son," she writes, "to express the consolation which your letter afforded me. Impressed with the dangers to which you were exposed, I have suffered much on your account, especially during the past year, still I have ever been sustained by the firm hope that our all-good God would never utterly forsake the son from whom I had parted for His dear sake alone, and now I find that His mercy to you has not only realized, but surpassed my expectations. The world offered you some advantages, it is true, but how immeasurably inferior to the blessing which God has bestowed! You are now enrolled in the army of the Almighty King; take, then, well to heart the words of our Lord Jesus Christ, 'No man putting his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the Kingdom of God' (St. Luke ix. 62). The happiness in store for you is infinitely beyond any which this world could give. 'Count then all things here below to be but loss that you may gain Christ' (Phil. in. 8). The example of your holy Father St. Benedict inculcates this generosity of spirit; imitate it faithfully, that so I may have the consolation of soon hearing that my uninterrupted prayers of many years for your sanctification have at last found acceptance with God. I never pass a day without offering you as a sacrifice to Him on the Heart of His well- beloved Son, desiring and supplicating that you may be consumed as a perfect holocaust on that Divine Altar. If any one were to tell me that you had died a martyr's death, I think I should expire with joy; but be faithful to grace, die constantly to self, imitate the many eminent servants of God sanctified in your Order, and not only will the Almighty make you a great saint, but He will grant you the reward of a martyr too. If He should mercifully bring you to your religious profession, let me know the joyful tidings. Tell me also the particulars of your call to religion, and the manner of your correspondence with it. In a word, let me have the consolation of participating fully in your spiritual treasures. Pray for me very often. I meet you many times a day in God, and speak of you unceasingly to Jesus and Mary."

The novice embraced the cross of religion with holy ardour, and bore it with persevering fidelity. Cordially despising the world which had well nigh betrayed him, he renounced it thoroughly, and directed all the affections of his heart to God alone. Looking on religious perfection as the only object worthy of his ambition, he pursued the one great end with a fervour and an earnestness which ensured his rapid progress. His success in his vocation, and the diminution of his mother's trials, all along kept such equal pace, that she might safely have judged of the one by the other. Hence, when obscurity again enveloped her soul, she inferred that some obstacle to his profession had arisen, and so the event proved. The difficulty being happily removed, he was permitted to seal the irrevocable act of his consecration to God by the solemn vows. After his promotion to the priesthood, he was appointed to some of the principal offices of his Order, and his humility taking the alarm, he wrote to his mother of his regret at being compelled to emerge from his dear solitude. "Do not say, my son," she replied, "that you prefer an obscure life to a higher sphere of action. Love the duties of the latter, not because they are more important in the eyes of men, but because they are in the order of God's will for you. It is well that you should be impressed with your nothingness, for on that foundation it is that the Almighty will erect the edifice of your perfection; but content yourself wherever He places you—there for you is sanctity. Whether your position is a high one or a low, be humble, and you will be happy." After having rendered important services to his Order, and contributed to the reformation of several abbeys, Dom Claude Martin died in the odour of sanctity at Marmoutier, on the 9th of August, 1696, aged seventy-seven. He survived his holy mother over twenty years, and after her death wrote the history of her life, employing principally as material her own relation of a portion of God's wondrous dealings with her, and her voluminous correspondence with himself.[Footnote: This history, with that of Père Charlevoix, forms the foundation of all the existing biographies of the Venerable Mother. Dom Claude Martin likewise published two volumes of her letters, the one the spiritual, the other the historical; her explanation of the Christian Doctrine ("Grand Catéchisme,") and her Retreats. For recent reprints of all we are indebted to the Abbé Richaudeau, a distinguished ecclesiastic of Blois. The Ursulines of Quebec possess, and prize as treasures, different articles once belonging to the son of their saintly Mother; among others, a silver reliquiary containing a precious particle of the true Cross.]

The Venerable Mother's work of zeal, though far advanced, was not completed. She had happily obtained the conversion of her son; when she had suffered more, she would be rewarded by that of her niece also, but not until then would her self-imposed task of charity be perfected. The niece alluded to had been from her birth a special object of her holy aunt's interest. The idol of her mother, no pains had been spared for the cultivation of her mind and the formation of her character; yet, notwithstanding all, she bade fair to turn out a frivolous worldling, unless arrested by Almighty grace. She was but fifteen when introduced to the gay circles of fashion, in which her personal attractions and brilliant accomplishments particularly fitted her to shine. Flattered at finding herself the object of general attention, she accepted the homage without pausing to weigh its sincerity, too dazzled by the glare of the world, too dizzy from the excitement of pleasure to be capable of discerning the serpent lurking among the flowers. A rude shock was to awaken her from her short, sweet dream.

Among the many claimants for her hand, one had resolved to secure the prize by stratagem, as he evidently could not hope to win it by persuasion. Accordingly, one day as she was going to Mass, he had her waylaid, forced into a carriage, and rapidly driven to his country seat, hoping much from the eloquence of a lady of his acquaintance whom he had engaged to meet her there and advocate his cause. Her mother very soon released her from her embarrassing position, but her difficulties were not yet over. On the death of that dear protectress, which occurred soon after, her unprincipled persecutor returned to the charge, although the law had taken cognizance of his first offence, and subjected him to well- merited penalties. The more effectually to gain his ends, he had recourse on this occasion to the intervention of the Duke of Orleans, whom he succeeded in persuading that the rich and beautiful heiress was his affianced bride, representing that the separation was as painful to her as to him, and earnestly begging an order for her restoration. Her guardian, clearly seeing that a convent alone could afford her a safe asylum, advised her to take refuge in one until the storm should have blown over. As this seemed the best thing to be done, she decided on applying for a temporary lodging at her dear aunt's old home, the Ursuline Monastery, in her native city of Tours. But even to this secluded abode persecution followed her, and at last thoroughly wearied out, she formed the dangerous resolution of embracing the religious state, rather to free herself from importunity, than with any wish to consecrate her life to God. No wonder that with her heart, and hopes and thoughts in the world, she should have been unable to appreciate, or even to discover the hidden happiness of her quiet cloistered home. No wonder that the days should have seemed long the observances wearisome, the duties monotonous, and uninteresting. But, oh! the wondrous power of prayer which draws down grace from heaven to refresh the soul, as the mountains attract the moisture-laden clouds to fertilize the earth! Separated in person from the object of her holy affection, but closely united to her in God, the Mother of the Incarnation prayed without ceasing that grace might do its admirable work in her, through its own unsearchable ways. She prayed that the bitter lesson which life had early taught, might bear its abundant fruits; that the desolate child might seek a balm in the Blood, and a home in the Heart of Jesus; and that having learned by experience how different are the servitude of God and that of the world, she might cling to the one and loathe the other evermore and the petition was fully granted.